And So It Goes
by ProfessorFerrars3256
Summary: The Minister for Magic( HG) and Department Head of the Aurors (SS) have a unique relationship challenged by a curse, which eventually forces them both to admit their true feelings. SS/HG Not DH epilogue compliant.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: I've had too much time on my hands during the fiasco of Hurricane Matthew, so this happened. Just two little chapters of angst and fluff with a terribly sweet ending. It bears some semblance to my fic Broken, but with much less angst. I've updated and edited this chapter before uploading the next because I felt it was missing some details. Let me know what you think!**_

They always went to lunch together on Tuesdays and Thursdays, meeting up at a pub in York or Leeds, or somewhere near the Ministry if he wasn't on assignment before going to his flat and shagging like the teenagers they certainly were not. Although they worked together at the Ministry, they interacted very little now that Hermione was Minister for Magic and Severus head of the Auror department, to keep things aboveboard of course. It had all started with flirtations, he was keen to know her better, his most competent student all those years before, working at the Ministry in Magical Law Enforcement and using her brain for something more than regurgitation. The first time he'd seen her since the night she'd saved him in the Shrieking Shack, he was so surprised by the difference in her appearance, how much she'd matured in the years since she'd graduated from Hogwarts, he felt himself blush, as though Severus Snape could ever have such a pretty young thing, but she'd noticed how he'd changed, too. Her hair still wasn't tamed, it was a garish, riotous mess but instead of thinking her disheveled and unkempt, he found it endearing. Sometimes when she was close enough and the tender curls brushed against his skin, sending waves of sensation throughout his entire body, he remembered her leaning over him, saving his life, hands working miracles as life left him. But it wasn't her hair which first caught his attention; it was her eyes, the fear and worry that had once pervaded them was gone, she was strong, confident, and altogether the Gryffindor goddess he hadn't thought she would have been when she a teenager and annoyingly raising her hand in his potions laboratory. It was her mouth he noticed next, the dramatic change in her smile, no longer bucktoothed, her nose littered with freckles, and infectiously, the first time she saw him she smiled, as though he was her best mate coming to visit after a long absence. It was then he realized she'd always treated with great kindness and sincerity; surely saving him before knowing he was redeemable should've made him realize this, but no, it was her smile, the gentle way his name crossed her lips as their hands met, and he knew, if nothing else, he wanted to be her friend.

As for himself, Snape was no longer the emaciated professor she had wanted to impress for years as a student, sure he wasn't classically handsome, but she liked the severe brow, the delectable lips, the timber of his deep voice as he brought her missives from his department, noting that he could've sent them through interoffice memo but chose to see her, to woo her quietly as it were. Most of all, she enjoyed the way his hands, so nimble, touched her, how he always seemed to sense that she needed that physical connection with him, even if it wasn't sexual in nature, his hands made her calm and clearheaded. What started as flirtation had turned to obvious attraction after Hermione had officially ended things with her school sweetheart, Ron Weasley, when it was entirely clear that they were ill suited; although she loved Ron and he loved her, it wasn't enough for either of them. It had been the most amicable break up most of their friends and family had ever witnessed, one day they'd been lovers and the next they were friends again, no visible awkwardness. The Weasleys still invited Hermione to family functions and the trio, Harry, Hermione, and Ron still met for dinner on Fridays, adding Ginny once she and Harry were married, then Ron's wife, Lavender Brown-Weasley, after a year or so. As soon as Severus had learned that Hermione was a "free agent" as Harry had put it over tea the day after Hermione and Ron had split, Severus immediately devised a plan to make her part of his life, a far more intimate and permanent part.

Severus had known immediately that he'd misjudged the amount of time she'd need to get over the Weasley boy when Hermione received flowers from an unknown source a month following the break-up. He might not have known if he hadn't been spying on her, but honestly what was the use of all those years of spying if not to make it count when it wouldn't hurt anyone except himself. Their weekly lunches hadn't yet started at that point, but he did make it a point to invite her to lunch to discuss the changes in protocol regarding foreign agents. Their meal had been far too enjoyable for both of them, no bumbling sentences or nervous energy; it was as though they had always meant to be friends and simply hadn't made the transition. Although it took Hermione longer to admit her feelings for her former professor, aside from the initial attraction she'd felt towards him, which was more than those of a friend, once she'd made up her mind to have him, she wasted no time telling him over what eventually became their shared lunch dates, Tuesdays and Thursdays. It had all evolved into something she quite enjoyed more than any other relationship she'd been in, not that she had much experience, but neither had Severus. They never spent time discussing what they were to each other; no insipid, 'what is this' or 'where is this going', they both knew they wanted each other and it was enough to have lunches, to occasionally go on holiday together which became more frequent as the years passed, to attend Ministry functions together and even when questioned by the press or even their friends, they always answered that they enjoyed each other's company, neither of them feeling that more needed to be said, until Severus suddenly had an involuntary change of heart.

It had started once she became Minister for Magic. Something had made him possessive of her, worried about the attention she received, both positive and negative, as though something in him had snapped, he wanted more of her, to have full possession of her, but didn't want to rock the boat, to admit to her that the years of their shared attraction and affection were no longer enough for him. Instead, he obsessed about her whenever she wasn't around, even when he should've been working on paperwork for her, training new agents or visiting agents dispersed around the magical world, his brain became so entirely occupied with her that he could barely function. It all reminded him of his other great love, Lily Evans Potter; the one who he pushed away. But, these feelings were entirely different; he didn't just want Hermione in his life, to have her with him at tea or in her sitting room where they both enjoyed lounging together on Sundays catching up on the week's paperwork or an odd letter to a friend or colleague; no, Severus Snape wanted to discipline Hermione, to force her to his will, and ultimately lock her away in his home without hope of recourse. He fought a daily battle within himself to fight those feelings, to make himself see reason and to delight in the time they had together, as lovely and thrilling as it had always been.

Lost in his feelings, the odd sensation of jealousy he hadn't felt in years, he missed their Tuesday lunch for the first time in five years once the tradition had started, forcing Hermione to eat alone at the pub and go back to the Ministry alone, refusing to search for him, letting her rational thought take champion of her feelings as she retreated her to office and tried not to obsess over his absence. He was terrified of how much he wanted to possess her, to control her. For weeks he'd had an intense and alarming fear of what he might do to her, to enrapture her, charm and harm her in a way he could barely fathom.

Once during one of their Thursday shag sessions, he felt an unforeseen and abrupt shift in his emotions, a virile need to smack her, to push her hard against the bed, to gag her and force sounds from her he'd never even heard before. Pulling away abruptly from her, he went immediately to the loo and splashed his face; he'd almost hurt her, his impulsivity had almost completely conquered his propriety when she'd looked to him with her large, hazel eyes, brimming with lust. Before meeting her back in his bed, he took a calming draught and hoped it would be enough to restrain whatever it was causing his brain to make him even consider hurting this beautiful creature.

"Sorry, love." He whispered against her skin, finding her mouth again as she climbed him, unwilling to let him go. In those moments, when he could control the impulse to sadistically control her, he felt himself the most content he'd ever been in his life, fulfilled by her obvious love.

 **((()))**

Hermione had thought that perhaps he'd gotten caught up in work, there had been more raids recently and she knew he'd been incredibly busy and overworked, he'd sniped at her a few times and showed more of the Professor Snape she remembered from her school days, reminding her for a moment just how cruel he could be when he was unchecked. When he didn't show up on Thursday, she sent him a missive about avoiding her in a joking tone and then went about her work running the magical world of the United Kingdom, meeting with foreign dignitaries and her friends for dinner on Friday night.

"Where's Snape?" Harry Potter asked as they dug into curry and cheese fries from a massive platter a the table, noting immediately the drop in Hermione's face.

"I have no earthly idea." It seemed unnatural that he not be there, they'd all been having dinner on Friday for more years than she could count, but found that if she drank enough guinness, she didn't think about it for more than Harry's inquisition, stumbling into her flat later that evening and finding nothing in her post from him. It suddenly made her sad and a touch angry that she had let him get so far under her skin, that perhaps not talking about their relationship and it's parameters had been foolish now that she felt her heart breaking. It was Monday before she came out of her stupor, an ice cream and vodka soaked weekend wherein she only sobered up long enough to attend James Potter's birthday Monday evening, taking a personal day for the first time in ten years. She hoped it had all been a misunderstanding, but when she returned to work that Tuesday, when she should've had lunch with Severus in Leeds, she found herself eating alone in the canteen, completely unsure of her next course of action. She'd sent a message, would it look desperate if she walked to his office and inquired further about his absences? Would it look desperate if she forced him to her office, because she knew she could as his boss. And then it dawned on her for the first time, that she was his boss, that she'd let an interoffice relationship cloud her judgment and she instantaneously chastised herself for her poor judgement. She should've known better; she shouldn't have given her heart to someone so obviously incapable of returning the sentiment.

Throwing her half-eaten food away in the bin, she made herself climb the flights of stairs to her office instead of taking the lift, contemplating how stupid she'd been letting herself get attached to Severus Snape as she rounded the corner to her office, using her hand wandlessly and wordlessly to open the door and finding him sitting in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk, looking impossibly handsome and smelling far more like sandalwood and bergamot than she could handle at the moment. Without a word, she unclasped her robes and straightened her blouse, fixing the waist of her pencil skirt before taking a seat in her chair, the air of the hydraulics softly exhaling as she did, folding her hands together and contemplating the man before her, whom she hadn't seen since the Friday before last. Arching an eyebrow, she noted the stubble of what appeared to be days without shaving, and then the taping of his fingers on the armrests of the chair they'd had sex in more than once, defiling the office of the Minister more times than she could remember. She waited for him to speak, he was the one who owed her explanation, but he didn't; he simply sat across from her, trying not to admit that he'd had quite dark feelings about her, feelings that had plagued him and made him violently ill. In all his years in service of Voldemort, he'd never once defiled a woman and he certainly didn't want to start with the only one who'd loved him since his mother.

For a moment she contemplated asking him to sign another non-disclosure act, making sure that their whatever it was would not be tabloid fodder once he ended things, as he appeared to be working himself up to, but she decided she didn't care if the press finally found out she wasn't the unshaggable prude they made her out to be often enough, and she certainly had never been embarrassed to be seen with her former professor.

"How may I help you, Head Auror Snape?" She refused to let her eyes leave his, to give him even an inkling of the hurt he'd caused her; so, in typical Hermione fashion, she cleared her mind and stared imperceptibly at him, neither fuming nor delicate, she kept her face stern but emotionless.

"Are you going to say anything or should I just assume we've met an impasse?" The silence had finally gotten to her and she felt her carefully constructed walls of emotion crumble. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't admit just how much she had come to value him, they'd practically been married, sharing everything but their names, for over five years and though it hadn't been spoken, she loved him more than she cared to admit; she simply wanted an explanation if he was ending things.

"You've never been unable to tell me off before or make it clear what you want, I'm afraid I'm in uncharted Snape territory here. If you are here to discuss your position, I can ask my deputy to join us." Hermione finally broke eye contact with the disheveled man before her who looked like he might vomit at any moment. Severus knew he needed to tell her that he was worried for his sanity, as though some ancient curse had made him want to do terrible things to her, but instead he watched the subtle way her eyes fell onto the parchment before her, his letter requesting leave, he needed to sort out his emotions, the creeping feelings of torture, of that possession he had never wanted so desperately. She'd missed the note on top entirely as Severus wasn't known for subtly or love notes.

"You are requesting leave?" He nodded, he couldn't say the words without wanting to spout vile things to her, how he wanted to take her against the desk, to bend her to his will, to control every aspect of her. He tried to motion to the note on top, the words he couldn't verbalize without spewing the vitriol he felt rising in him. For a moment, he controlled it simply by seeing the subtle cracks in her demeanor; it was so clear he was hurting her, but if he'd opened his mouth, he knew he would've said something he could never take back.

"Have you been hit with a silencio? Or is talking to me that difficult?"When he didn't respond, Hermione felt herself release breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, and then she looked back at him, her eyes shifted over his form once more. He looked thinner.

"I will place Dobson in charge for the duration of your leave, but know this, based upon your contract with the Ministry, if you are gone more than six months and one day, I will be obliged to hire someone as your replacement without notice." Hermione's voice almost broke, but she channeled her anger for a moment, stamping his document and handing it back to him before making a magical copy, sending it to the filing cabinet next to her and then folding her arms, mocking his typical stance as she considered him again; she'd never seen him so frightened, his behavior so odd. Rationally, she knew this man, she knew he wouldn't end things like this but emotion overrode rationalism and she simply stared at him, the note on request falling onto her desk.

"Thank you, Minister." And that was it, the nail in the coffin. He never called her by her title and never shook her hand, which he attempted to do as they both stood but Hermione refused to touch him, to feel the terrible grace of his nimble fingers in hers again. Instead, she waved him off, unable to meet his eyes as he waited, and then slamming her door when he exited. She was curious about his behavior, desperate to know what was wrong with him and why he'd suddenly had such a change of heart, but she didn't want to pry. Finally, she looked down at the papers on her desk, craving the infernal scratching of his quill on parchment as she worked, and when she suddenly saw the tiny note, words as devastating as his desolate eyes, **_"I'm terrified I will hurt you."_** She should've followed him from the office to his, she should've made herself chase him down and ask him exactly what he meant, but instead she took his words for what they appeared. Her heart burst.

After all their years together, she'd learned not to push him emotionally, but she hadn't had to in so long because he'd been forthcoming and honest with her. For years he'd opened up to her, every niggling thought, every annoyance with his team or even her former classmates who he now regarded as friends. There were nights when she could barely get in a world edgewise because he finally felt free to let everything out, every story from his youth, every experience during his time with Voldemort, the guilt he still carried having killed his mentor, even if he felt that he was freeing Dumbledore from a terribly painful life it still plagued him. Ultimately, they had become more to each other than co-workers, former teacher and pupil, they were bonded, she thought, on a level she'd never experience with anyone else and now, she never wanted to again.

Now, she felt it was all a ruse, a terrible machination of a man who obviously wanted nothing to do with her; again, irrational thoughts destroyed her typical calm. Once she was absolutely sure he was gone, she warded the door and had a long cry, a good ugly cry, giving herself an hour before finishing her schedule for the day. When Thursday arrived, she felt a twinge of regret when it was time for lunch, but the following week things were easier, and by the time he returned six months later, she felt almost over the feeling of regret, when she saw him she didn't immediately swoon or reach for him, wanting the explanation she never got. Instead, she immersed herself in work, went on her own retreat to Bulgaria to meet with Viktor Krum and his wife, she invited her cousins from France for a visit, she met with her friends for Friday dinner and stayed at Grimmauld Place and played with her nephews and niece, all-in-all she was proud of herself for not obsessing about Severus and what had happened to them, though she did get annoyed having to answer about him whenever prompted; she was definitely thankful when people stopped asking. Minister for Magic Hermione Granger ran the government and made herself busy, forgetting the pain deep within herself at having lost him; she persevered without him as she knew she could, she simply hadn't wanted to.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN:I edited and updated the first section, so you might want to read it again, and with this the story is complete...I think. Let me know what you think!**_

For Severus, the six months had been torture; he desperately missed Hermione and desperately wanted to be in her presence, to explain what had happened to him and the curse which had made him quite literally insane. The retreat he attended was specifically designed for magical maladies; he met with a psychological healer every day to discuss his odd feelings, the desire to possess Hermione Granger in a way he'd only imagined once or twice when he'd been a follower of Voldemort, when he'd watched lesser men like Rodolphus LeStrange allow other men to take his wife, then punishing her when she enjoyed it too much. There was no immediate cure for the curse, so he worked daily with the healer to move passed the feelings, to learn to control his emotions again. The guilt of his leaving and not explaining himself to Hermione weighed on him more than anything. He'd written to her a thousand times but not sent a single letter, instead he waited it out, he realized that the problem lay in his fears of losing her and the bloody curse cast on him at some point in a raid. Daily, he wondered what she thought of him, and also what she would've thought of him as he attended hypnotherapy, yoga, and even kept a journal of his daily thoughts and feelings.

Once the curse was essentially reversed, he returned to England, to his job as head of the aurors, and immediately set about thinking of ways to mend his relationship with Hermione. He knew he could lay it all out, he could tell her that he'd been cursed, possessed himself by some evil magic and that she'd understand, she was after all the brightest witch he'd ever known and one of the kindest as well. The moment he'd seen her again, the determined brow of diligence at the meeting for all the heads of departments, how she'd greeted each of them with the same courteous handshake, how their hands had met for the first time in over six months, and the jolt they'd both felt immediately, as though their magic had sparked for a moment, recognizing their signatures as though they truly did have a bond. After the meeting, he waited for a moment to speak to her, but she was whisked away by her deputy, her eyes almost pleading with his to meet her later, and he did. He went to her office in lieu of the amount of work he needed to catch up on but she never returned. Instead, he received an interoffice memo asking him to organize a task force to accompany her to an emergency conference in Scotland, and though he couldn't think of the possible danger she could be in, he did as he was instructed, making himself a member so that perhaps they would get a moment together so he could explain himself.

They stayed in Aberdeen and he knew instantly that this meeting did not concern anything Scottish; Hermione was meeting with two dignitaries from Egypt and they seemed to have an agenda. Watching her from across the room, he noted that she was lovely, far lovelier than he deserved, and composed, any awkwardness from her school days was gone as she sat posed and commanding of the men at the table. Later, when he made surveillance of her suite, he was shocked to see her enter her suite with a man he'd never seen before, a young man who looked about her age and quite interested in her based upon the kiss they'd shared as they'd entered the suite, the young man's hand on her back, guiding her through the door before it slammed, immediately sending ice through him. Had she planned this? Had Hermione been vile enough to seek revenge in such an obvious and deplorable way? His mind flitted between jealousy, anger, and malaise; he loved Hermione, there was absolutely no doubt about it, but seeing her enter the hotel suite with another man unceremoniously brought feelings of fear and old hurt, from his childhood when people like James Potter had treated him so cruelly, but he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Inside the suite, Hermione kissed her cousin Anthony's cheek and hugged him once more, so thankful he'd been able to attend this small meeting with the dignitaries from Egypt where he was a code breaker for Gringott's with Bill Weasley for the past seven years. Before she could even thank him for coming, she felt tears burst, seeing Severus again had finally caught up with her and she couldn't stop the waterworks from flowing.

"Oh dear, what's happened?" Anthony's incredibly cheerful and vibrant voice calmed her as she melted into his embrace.

"Severus, he's ended things and he's outside and I just want to talk to him. I'm the bloody Minister for Magic and I can't summon the courage." Anthony handed her some napkins from the minibar and then put his arms around her again.

"What happened?"

"He got all wonky, he started acting weird and I didn't really notice at first and then he missed our lunches, you know how I eat lunch with him every Tuesday and Thursday from my letters," He smirked, yes, they certainly ate lunch, "and then he turned up in my office after not seeing him over a week and took leave, leaving me with nothing but this." She unfolded the tiny note, clearly worn from folding and unfolding, 'I'm terrified I will hurt you.'

"That's rather endearing, really." Hermione smacked him and took the note back, folding it again and holding it in the palm of her hand, knowing he'd touched it.

"What do you mean he was acting weird?"

"Suddenly he'd stop in the middle of shagging and look like he was, I don't know, going to strangle me...and twice he pulled my hair so hard I thought I'd gone bald...oh my!" It hit her like the weight of thousands of galleons, he'd meant it literally...he was actually afraid he was going to hurt her. "I'm such a fool." Wrenching herself from his grasp, she went to the hallway to ask for Severus, but he was gone. Immediately, she wrote him a quick note, sending it with her owl, Tiberius. A simple note, 'Why didn't you tell me?'. Perhaps it was vague, but it would at least get him to her door, she hoped. But he didn't come, he'd left Scotland and her in the hands of the aurors he'd assigned to the task force, for the first time taking himself out of the picture of her safety and allowing his well trained people to take charge. He drowned in guilt until his irrational anger took over.

Even though he knew he was delusional, that there was no way Hermione had moved on so quickly, not when words had yet to be shared, details of gathering her things, if everything was really over, from his flat, but he was perceivably angry and hurt and that allowed the nonsensical thoughts to pervade most others. But, he knew he couldn't stay to watch it unfold if he was wrong. Instead, he left his best field agents to protect her and drowned himself in red wine from her family's vineyard in the Burgundy region, where they'd holidayed the year before. Before he could completely undress, remove the boots she'd gotten him for Christmas, he saw her owl perched on his stoop in the kitchen and read the note she'd written him in all muddy and perplexing glory. What did she mean, 'why didn't you tell me?'? Why didn't he tell her what? He felt too intoxicated to reply, so he set her note down, gave Tiberius a snack, then went to bathe, falling asleep in the tub only to awaken hours later freezing and angry with himself for not being more forthright with her and disappearing. Fear was the greatest motivator of his life, even if he dared not admit it most of the time. Taking parchment, he wrote everything down, every odd and disastrous emotion he'd felt after he'd been cursed, to the retreat, and finally to seeing her walk into the hotel suite with a strange man and though he felt justified in his feelings and behavior, he decided to be as honest as possible, to finally put on paper what he'd wanted to say to her so many times, that he loved her, that he missed Tuesdays and Thursdays, Friday nights with her friends and by extension his, trips to random markets to find the best coffee or cakes, watching her chew the tops of quills, the way she danced in the kitchen as she made tea or coffee, how her toes curled when she moaned in pleasure, how she kissed him, held him, and ultimately, loved him like no other woman had. When Tiberius left, he felt his pulse quicken, he felt the weight of his admission to her after so much silence and fear that she'd reject him, especially since he'd been unable to communicate clearly the massive place in his heart where she resided.

When Hermione returned from her last meeting with the Egyptian dignitaries to finalize the exchange of two prisoners, traveling from Aberdeen back to London, she saw a note on her desk and Tiberius perched expectantly so she ruffled his feathers and threw him some treats before taking a deep breath and reading the letter. It was from Severus and she couldn't quite believe what she was reading. She had been right, at least eventually, that he'd been literally afraid to hurt her, that he'd been cursed. Without another thought, she left her office and ran down the stairs to his floor, forgetting how tired she was from negotiations, forgetting that she was the Minister for Magic and probably looked quite ridiculous at the moment, well at least unprofessional. When she burst through his door, he wasn't there, and her face fell. Catching her breath for a moment, she turned and trudged back up to her office, stopping at the canteen for a ham and swiss croissant and some coffee, as burnt and nasty as it was, feeling her face still blushed and red from his words. She would find him, she would tell him that her feelings hadn't altered in the slightest, but not until she ate and slept, until she could formulate the words she needed to say to make him see that she understood, that she knew why he hadn't been able to say the words aloud.

The next morning, a Thursday, Severus arrived for work in his typical attire, his ego bruised slightly as he hadn't heard from Hermione yet. Entering his office, his secretary, a slight man named Peter Gregson with patches of balding hair, an odd Weasley red, informed him that the Minister for Magic had been to see him the day before after he'd left for an inspection in Blythe. Taking the steps in twos and sometimes threes, he made it to her office short of breath and lightheaded, perhaps he was getting too old to chase after her? He knocked three times, but found her office empty, her secretary and other staff gone. For a moment he paused, contemplating where she might be and then remembered it was Thursday and they often ate at the pub near his house on Thursdays, especially if it had been a long week, and since he felt like it had been the longest half year, he took a chance and apparated near the pub in an alley way out of sight of muggles and walked in, his breath catching as he saw her, her hair pulled back but still overflowing from the loose pony tail, the emerald fancy robes she wore for special meetings hanging from her because she'd clearly lost weight she couldn't spare, and when she finally looked up to him, he saw everything he'd ever wanted in life; a person to understand him, to accept him and his faults, to challenge his mind, someone who made him feel alive, to feel wanted and needed like he'd never felt, and to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wouldn't disappear because of an infernal, idiotic misunderstanding that had been entirely his fault, he hadn't been vigilant enough to avoid a curse, something he'd trained for the majority of life; like a phoenix rising from the ashes he felt the burning of his skin as he took the seat across from her, dipping forward for a moment to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"I received your letter."She curtly said in response to his chaste kiss. Holding both of her hands in his, he ran his thumb over her knuckles, wishing that he could do more than simply sit across from her gaping like an idiot at the sheer audacity that she'd still want him.

"I never thought I'd have to say all of that, even if in written form, I always hoped it was understood, but this curse made me an insufferable fool and there's no excuse. You've been nothing but warm and open towards me, even before you knew I was redeemable…"Shyly she reached up to him, crossing moving her chair and now they looked like those obnoxious couples who couldn't be bothered to spend a meal not on top of each other.

"It was understood, it's been understood and I'm sorry I didn't see the signs earlier...it took my cousin talking to me in Scotland for me to realize that something more than just insecurity was wrong with you. I should've known better, you're many things but not normally insecure." Before he could reply, she leaned further into him, taking in his cologne, the warmth emanating from his skin, the delicate cotton of his frock coat and then his lips, how she'd missed them.

"You would forgive me, just like that?" His eyes searched her for the gentle warmth he normally found and it was there, the flickering amber of happiness, everything he'd ever hoped to see in response to his machinations.

"What is there to forgive?" He shoed the waiter away, they needed another moment before resuming regularly scheduled activities. The pressure of her head resting against his shoulder made his lip curl upwards, he'd underestimated her again and though he was normally loathe to show too much in the way of affection in public, he pulled her practically on his lap, the leader of their world completely undone in his arms.

"I could've tried harder to explain and at least told you where I was going, it might've helped you piece it together...and that man was your cousin?" Her head snapped up, annoyed by the jealousy in his voice.

"Yes, Anthony Granger, your people vetted him before he entered my suite or didn't you check? As though I would've moved on that quickly." There she was, the fiery woman he loved.

"Pardon me for my misgivings." Quickly and chastely she kissed him again and moved back to her side of the table, motioning for the waiter and ordering. He admired her tenacity, the way she always ordered exactly what she wanted in lieu of some arcane female tradition of pecking at rabbit's food like a bird; no, his woman ate what she wanted and drank guinness, frothy liquid goodness.

"So, are we going to resume normal operations, Severus?" Her eyebrow raised seductively as the waiter brought their drinks and after steak pies they went to his flat where the only words uttered were Hermione's, a momentary lapse of reason and sudden fear.

"If you ever leave me for six months with no real explanation, I might curse you, you know." She paused only for a moment, thinking of the lovely things he'd written about his love for her in his letter. "I love you, I love the way you refuse to use any ink except that ridiculously expensive stuff from Dervish and Bangs, how you fold your socks in pairs and laugh when I roll mine, how you pretend not to love Crookshanks even though I see you give him treats, they way you whisper my name in your sleep, how you possessively hold me when anyone gets too close, but mostly, it's this, the way you treat me like an equal, as though what we've survived hasn't ruined us, in your flat I'm just Hermione and you're just Severus, and I love you, in case you didn't catch that. And I'm sorry we haven't felt the need to say any of this before, well I'm not sorry because I'd always thought you knew as well." Momentarily, her eyes filled with tears and she wondered if perhaps she'd said too much, but he reached up to her, wiping her tears away softly with his thumbs, forcing her to look in his eyes, depths and chasms she still felt she hardly understood. Nothing else was said between them, everything was in the open, and though there would still be some healing, they both knew that nothing had really changed aside from time, it had passed without them. Severus worshipped her body, reminding himself just how delectable she was, and for her part, Hermione reminded him what it meant to give yourself away to someone else completely. They did not return to the Ministry that day, nor the next, and barely showed up to Friday dinner at the Leaky Cauldron where Severus was greeted as eagerly as he'd always been by his former students and now friends.

While Hermione, Ginny, and Lavender were in the loo, Harry leaned over to Severus, who he'd seen as infrequently as Hermione over the previous months.

"I've missed destroying you in chess, do you have time next week?" Severus had expected admonishment, something from Hermione's best mate, but instead Harry was Harry, his top field agent.

"Perhaps, though I played every day when I was at the retreat, so you'll find my game far more competitive." Sipping his guinness, Harry's face scrunched in a contemplative thought and he thought that he should, perhaps, flick a nerve in Severus, force his hand with Hermione; he wanted to see her as settled as he and Ron were, raising families, but then he thought about the life she'd built for herself and wondered if she wanted those things.

"I can see you're thinking about something quite intensely, Mr. Potter, just ask." Severus said so lowly Ron couldn't hear him. He'd never liked Weasley much.

"It's just, do you know if Hermione wants something more? I mean, she has rarely even mentioned the future, but, erm, what's holding you back?" Severus thought about the garbled mess Harry Potter had slurred through, wondering if Hermione did want marriage some day and children, they'd never discussed it before and he felt, at least with children, that his time had passed. Hermione and the wives returned before he could answer, but his mind still contemplated Harry's words.

 _ **((()))**_

That night they stayed with the Potters at Grimmauld Place so Hermione could watch their youngest, Lily, the next day. Instead of leaving as he normally did, Severus stayed and watched her interact with the tiny girl, her bright red hair and green eyes almost mocking him as he surveyed them, painting a picture for Ginny who was apparently expecting their fourth child, another girl. It didn't seem that Hermione loved Lily more than the boys or other children they'd been around, which hadn't been frequently, at least not when he'd been with her. Pretending to read his book, Severus listened to their conversations, a three year old and his love, talking about so many varied topics he could barely keep up. When the other Potters returned hours later, Severus hadn't even noticed how much time had passed as the boys ran through, hugging Hermione as they passed and shouting hello to him, his little namesake stopping briefly to shake his hand in their pretend formality. Did he want children? Had his time really passed?

They left an hour later, after he scheduled tea with Harry for Wednesday and then taking her in his arms, the apparated together to her flat where Crookshanks meowed angrily at them for leaving him alone, but mostly at Severus for being gone for so long. After they showered and pretended to read for a while in bed, both still a bit of a fog from their months apart, Hermione finally turned to him.

"You've been weird today; were you perhaps hit with another curse?" She smirked as she turned onto her stomach and stared up at him, one hand resting under her chin and the other on his abdomen, toying with the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms as she spoke.

"Not a curse, just an odd question from your best mate." She stopped for a moment and then involuntarily brought her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating what Harry could've said.

"Was he cruel? I'm sorry, he and Ron are so protective sometimes, like the brothers I never had. If he said something mean, I'll talk to him." But Severus pulled her up to him, her soft body resting against his as his hands held her shoulders and his eyes searched hers. They were done keeping their feelings to themselves.

"He asked me what was holding me back, if you wanted more than what we have, that is." He didn't blink, he wanted to see her reaction, oddly aroused when she smile sweetly and raised herself up to straddle him properly, resting her hands on his shirt.

"Thank Merlin, I thought he'd threatened you." Continuing to play with the drawstrings of his pants, she leaned forward and kissed him, her hands flush against his skin as his shirt was pushed up, running her tongue across his bottom lip.

"Wait, Hermione, he wasn't wrong. What is holding us back? We've been together for five years and I've never even asked you if you want children, a home we both share, more than what we have." Climbing off of him, Hermione's brow furrowed as she sat crossed legged beside him, her mind racing and wondering why the chasm of things they'd never talked about needed to be opened so soon after she'd finally gotten him back.

"I thought you didn't want those things and I am happy with what we have, now at least that you're back." But Severus could see hesitation in her eyes, even if she carefully gilded her words, so he pulled her into his arms again, sitting up as he did.

"I'd give it all to you, if that's what you want." Without realizing it, Hermione and Severus were both on their knees, their arms encircling each other's waist, their eyes locked before kissing again.

"I don't want those things if it compromises what you want, Severus, we are a team, and if you want things to be exactly as they are, then that would make me the happiest woman alive." She melted into him, her body fitting perfectly against his before he flipped her on her back, landing as softly as they could on her bed, the frilly ruffles of her duvet tickling her neck for a moment as she giggled against him.

"I want everything." He whispered against her, his arms resting against her shoulder blades, his fingers in her hair as he nestled his body between her thighs, their hip bones hitting for a moment and causing them both to inhale quickly, but he adjusted and it was perfect. He knew nothing about their lives was perfect, not really, but resting with her in his arms, things felt right, the stars aligned; he wasn't a sad child from Manchester who needed pity in her arms and she wasn't an awkward, bushy-haired, bucktoothed teenager who constantly sought his approval. Life had moved on and so had they, with each other.

"Well, we can at least perfect our technique if we're to try to have children some day." She teased, reaching down to his pajama pants, pushing them down first with her hands then her legs, nibbling his neck as she did.

"You are a terrible tease, Minister."

"It's not teasing, you daft man, I'm just ushering things along, it's been six months of extremely cold showers." His laugh reverberated against her as he leaned in for another kiss, taking his time with her, enjoying her breasts pressed against his ribcage just so, the gentle feeling of her breathing and soft moans that escaped, the same internal battle she always played within herself to let him have control, and he was lost, so completely lost in her.

"It is my life's endeavor to acquiesce to your demands, dear." The moment their bodies truly met, she wondered how she'd managed without him, why she hadn't made herself go after him like she knew she should've, but it didn't matter as they moved together, she just knew he was there and would be as far as they were concerned indefinitely. Later, when they decided on a long bath and more guinness, Hermione cradled him between her legs, his head resting on her chest as they faced the faucet and she washed his arms, then his neck.

"I wonder what the world would think if they could see you like this, completely indisposed under my touch. If they only they knew how lovely you are." Lathering his chest, she reached around him and stole another kiss, happier than she'd been in months, in her entire life.

"I'm not lovely." He protested, stilling her hand for a moment.

"You are lovely." She felt him start to argue with her again, so she captured his mouth with hers, forcing him to stop. When he finally responded, she was completely surprised and amused.

 _ **"And you're the only one who knows."**_ He felt her laugh before he heard it, tickling her thigh to keep the chorus of laughter going, and then he watched her smiling, the same silly smile she only wore for him. They both had a face they showed to the world and the real face to each other, and neither wanted it any other way. And though they'd both hated the curse that had forced them apart, strained things, they were both grateful that it had made them say the things they'd needed to say; it only made them more powerful, a couple others questioned though also feared. Both delighted in the odd glances and whispered comments, still refusing to answer questions even after their marriage made the front page of every wizarding newspaper, even after their first child was born, then their second and third, even when they both retired and moved permanently to York, they never once answered a single question from the press. Their life together was sacred to both of them, something found only once in a lifetime, and that was no one else's business, especially since it had taken them so long to admit it to themselves in the first place.

 _ ***lyrics from the song by Billy Joel which is also the title of this fic.**_


End file.
